Nobody
by Hushabye
Summary: Brian had been tied up and beaten to a pulp by the Joker because the Joker thought he was the Batman. His murder had been filmed and ignored. Why? Because Brian didn't matter.


**Alright. I'm really sorry for deleting some of my other stories, but I had to clear my head and begin some fresh ideas that I'm actually going to finish!**

**Now please don't judge me on this one. I was really depressed when I wrote it, but I'm not now. So if you want to be in a good mood today, I suggest not reading it! xD It also doesn't really make any sense, but I thought it was good, in a way. It's just mainly my take on how Brian viewed the world before he died. Try not to flame, but if you must be harsh, constructive criticism is always welcomed. **

"**And… here… we… GO!…"**

_Nobody_

Brian wasn't a somebody, and he knew that. He just didn't understand it until he had been tied up and beaten to a pulp.

Before, he used to think of what he could be. What his dad wanted him to be. His sister. His ex-wife. But, nowadays, his mind had been suckered into thinking about just plain old surviving. Living the life. Actually trying to _be _a somebody; actually trying to fit into the smallest place in the world.

His problem, though, was the fact that the world didn't want him. The world didn't care. It couldn't give two shits about him. Just like its inhabitants; its scum, criminals, thugs.

The Joker.

That name always came out of his mouth like it meant something.

When he had dressed up like the Batman, his intention was to show the bastards of this planet how good they had it; that people like him didn't have a life because they went around flaunting someone else's. Villains didn't. They didn't care about anything or anyone except for themselves. Except for money, power, glory, fame. They… _they_… had a life. A life not worth living. And he tried proving that as well. But, like always, his tries had been shoved to the darkest corner and forgotten. All because of one man who called himself _the Joker._

Awhile back, he had despised that clown and idolized the Batman. He had been on the Batman's side. The Batman had given him something to believe in. What that something was, he couldn't grasp, but he knew it was once worth something. Now it was beneath him. Beneath the dirt. The bacteria. Beneath everything. Because the Joker showed Brian he had nothing to live or to even _die _for. Nobody cared about him no matter how many times they would try proving their loyalty and their faith. Brian remembered that that was pathetically true when the Batman had pushed him out of the way when he had tried to help. He never thought about it before, but now it seemed crystal clear. The Joker wasn't just talking about people not caring in general. He was also talking about the Batman. The Batman wasn't a hero or a villain. Brian didn't even consider him to be a vigilante. He was just a mere memory that will be forgotten once he dies. Just like Brian.

The Joker would go down in flames as well. He had told Brian how much he didn't care about the world because the world was a hateful place. The only way to live in it was to be hateful back. He didn't care if he got killed the next day or if he committed suicide another. And that was why the Joker wouldn't matter either. He was just a speck of uncaring dust on this depressing earth. Just like Batman. Like Brian. Like everybody.

But the thing was, Brian actually _wanted _to be set free from the Joker and prove his theory. He wanted to show the world his own hatred. But he never got the chance. His death was posted everywhere. On the news, in newspapers. It was like it _meant _something. The Joker had merely, though, just filmed his plans for the city and another of his beautiful, sullen murders. The world had seen Brian weak and defenseless, not heroic and strong. He wanted to be viewed as the hero or at least the villain. At least he'd be viewed as something and not that nerdy guy who had dressed up like Batman and was brutally murdered. He could either be a person who put terror into the hearts of criminals or fear into the brains of _everyone_. God, he liked the sound of that. Showing what he was made of. But he was now only another body buried beneath the cold earth. Only a figment of everybody's imagination. He wasn't a somebody. He wasn't the Batman or the Joker; not a speck of dust. He wasn't anybody he wanted to be. His life wasn't his own. It never had been, ever since he was a young boy sitting upon his father's knee, watching Spider-Man cartoons.

Brian was a loser. He didn't fight back when he needed to or when the time called for it. When he did something he thought was amazing, no one even seemed to even notice. No one seemed to even _want_ to notice.

Brian was a nobody. Plain and simple.

**Yeah, I know. Kind of random and pointless, but I haven't seen a fic like this yet, so I thought I'd do a little one chapter story on it. Hope you liked it at least a little bit!**


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